


Love Ride

by unbecomings



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Birthday Sex, Established Relationship, F/F, Gratuitous Smut, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:40:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21589417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unbecomings/pseuds/unbecomings
Summary: Emily bought herself a birthday present.
Relationships: Lindsey Horan/Emily Sonnett
Comments: 14
Kudos: 118





	Love Ride

**Author's Note:**

> Don't @ me about the title, it wasn't PURPOSELY a strap-on joke, it's taken from the song 'love ride' by Christian French. Sorry this is so late, the holidays are...the holidays. Come yell at me on Twitter @unbecomings_ :)

Emily bought herself a birthday present.

They’ve talked about it before. In the dark, with Lindsey curled up against her back, her knee digging into the back of Emily’s thigh, her cold hands pushed up under Emily’s t-shirt. There’s no pressure like that and it was easy for Emily to bring it up, cradling Lindsey’s hand in both of hers. What she’d like. How she’s tried it and liked it before. How she thought maybe Lindsey would like it too.

Here’s what she didn’t say: she spent two hours online looking at strap-ons and harnesses, before she picked one in a shape and size and color she liked. Then she spent another half hour thinking about Lindsey _in_ the strap on. And then maybe she spent another half hour touching herself about it. But she doesn’t say any of that.

What she does say, after Lindsey wines and dines her and brings her back to her apartment and hovers in the foyer like she’s not sure she should stay, is this: “I bought myself a birthday present.”

“Oh yeah?” Lindsey says, brows furrowed. She has no idea what Emily’s talking about, and it makes Emily less nervous. She shouldn’t be nervous, anyway, they’ve already talked about it and Lindsey said she’d try it and if worst comes to worst they’ll do something else instead. 

“Yeah,” Emily says, reaching for Lindsey, tugging her in by the halves of her jacket, “you wanna see it?”

“Is it lingerie?” Lindsey asks, and Emily laughs.

“No,” Emily says, “I think I’m allergic to lace.”

“Hmm,” Lindsey says, “I hope not.”

Emily doesn’t think twice about _that_.

-

Lindsey is nervous. Being around Emily always used to make her nervous, before they were dating, and she could never explain it. The _concept_ of Emily made her nervous, but being with Emily made her calm. Tonight she’s just nervous. She’s still feeling it when Emily takes her hand and leads her to the bedroom. She’s still feeling it when Emily pulls her close and kisses her, still feeling it when Emily pulls away.

“Linds,” Emily says, “you okay?”

Instead of answering, Lindsey shrugs out of her jacket and pulls her sweater over her head.

Emily’s jaw drops.

“You seriously didn’t guess?” Lindsey asks, and watches with glee when Emily turns bright red, all her nervousness gone. She was sort of half expecting Emily to laugh at her. She was definitely expecting Emily to have guessed exactly what she was up to. Instead, she’s speechless, her eyes fixed on Lindsey’s lacy black bra. ‘Bra’ is maybe a little bit of an overstatement. 

“Um,” Emily says, “no. Holy shit, babe.”

This time Lindsey is the one who initiates the kiss, and Emily is so respectful, reaching for Lindsey’s waist even though Lindsey knows that’s not where she wants her hands. It makes her smile against Emily’s mouth, but then Emily bites her lower lip and her smile disappears entirely. Emily’s ability to turn her on immediately is still staggering. They were half-joking a moment ago and now Lindsey’s legs are weak and it’s all she can do to grab Emily’s hands and put them where she wants them.

“God,” Emily says, rubbing her thumbs across lace, and Lindsey moans quietly in agreement. Emily kisses her with a new hunger, finding Lindsey’s nipples with her thumbs through the thin lace of the bra. Lindsey gets overwhelmed and cups the back of Emily’s neck with one hand, using her other hand to hook her fingers into Emily’s belt-loops and pull.

“Emily,” Lindsey says, “take your shirt off.”

“Nuh uh,” Emily says, “it’s my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday and you don’t want to get naked with me,” Lindsey states. Emily pinches one of her nipples and Lindsey’s knees betray her immediately, making her sway. 

“I wanna know if it’s a matching set,” Emily says.

“Then take my pants off,” Lindsey says, “unwrap your present.”

Emily groans. 

-

Emily moves to sit on the edge of the bed and holds Lindsey’s hips in her hands. She wants to spend the next six hours of her life looking at Lindsey in that lingerie. She also wants Lindsey to bend her over the bed and make her _beg_ to come, which is not something they’ve done and not necessarily something she thinks Lindsey would want to do. Instead of saying anything about that, she drags her open mouth along Lindsey’s stomach and presses her thumbs into Lindsey’s hipbones. 

Lindsey reaches down and tugs Emily’s hair out of its bun. She threads her fingers into Emily’s hair and Emily feels a prickle of desire trail down the back of her neck. She’s not exactly surprised by the fact that she’s into this particular position, but she knows that Lindsey can’t possibly know. When she opens her eyes to look up at Lindsey, to try and express it, Lindsey looks way more fucked up than Emily expected her to.

Like maybe she’s really into this, too.

Emily pops the button on Lindsey’s jeans and tugs down the zipper. Already she can see that there _are_ lace panties underneath, and she’s so turned on that it hurts. Lindsey picked this out for her. For her to see. Lindsey is wearing this specifically to turn her on, because it’s her birthday, and God is it working. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Emily mumbles against Lindsey’s stomach, trailing kisses from one hipbone across to the other. Lindsey’s hand tightens briefly in Emily’s hair. Emily can already tell that Lindsey’s turned on, too, even before she tugs Lindsey’s jeans down far enough that she can fit her hand inside them and touch Lindsey over her underwear. But then she really knows. Lindsey is so wet, and so sensitive that her hips jerk forward when Emily’s fingers press against her clit for the first time that night. Emily wants to touch her more but she also doesn’t want to mess up the way Lindsey looks in the full lingerie set, so she pulls her hand back and tugs Lindsey’s jeans all the way off, and when she looks up again Lindsey pushes her back onto the bed and kisses her and Emily forgets every word she’s ever learned. 

Somehow Lindsey moves them back towards the middle of the bed. Somehow Lindsey gets Emily’s shirt off. She ends up straddling one of Emily’s legs, bracing herself on one elbow to kiss Emily, and Emily can’t keep her hands still. She pushes Lindsey’s hair out of her face, then runs her hands along Lindsey’s shoulders, down her back. When she slides one hand under Lindsey’s underwear, over her ass, Lindsey reaches back to take her hand and pin it over her head. Emily groans, her hips jumping up off of the bed and into Lindsey, and Lindsey grins against her jaw. 

“You first,” Lindsey says, “and second. It’s your birthday.”

“Maybe I want to make you come for my birthday,” Emily whines, and Lindsey nips at her jaw. 

“You do that all the time,” Lindsey says, “I want it to be about you tonight.”

-

“I haven’t shown you what I got for myself,” Emily murmurs.

Lindsey sighs when Emily wriggles out of her grasp and sits up. 

“Now?” Lindsey says, “aren’t we busy?”

“It’s, um,” Emily hesitates, “helpful.”

Emily is a mess. Lindsey loves it. Seeing Emily’s hair fucked up, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes hazy and unfocused and her shirt off does _things_ to Lindsey. Knowing that she and her lacy setup caused it makes her feel even better, gives her enough confidence to stretch out on the bed while Emily goes digging in her closet. Lindsey is half doing it so that Emily will turn back around and see her and forget about whatever new joggers she got herself for her birthday. She wants Emily to forget everything that’s not about having sex with her. She’s a little surprised she hasn’t broken Emily’s brain well enough yet. 

And then Emily reappears, blushing bright red with her jeans unbuttoned and a harness in her hands. 

“Oh,” Lindsey says.

“Bad oh?” Emily asks, and Lindsey sits up, shaking her head. 

It’s pretty average-sized. As far as she can tell, anyway. She’d only ever had sex with one guy and God knows if his dick was actually bigger than average or if he was lying. It wasn’t like she ever _cared_. Anyway, it’s not an intimidating dildo, shes more concerned about the harness, because she can’t figure out from looking at it how someone’s supposed to put it on. 

“We can do that after I get you off,” Lindsey says, “twice. Then you can do anything you want to me. Within reason.”

She winks, and Emily blushes and looks away, and Lindsey feels as though she’s said something wrong. Emily still isn’t back on the bed with her. Lindsey’s hands still aren’t on Emily’s skin. 

“I, um,” Emily starts, and the nervous edge to her voice makes Lindsey’s heart flutter, “thought...I bought it for you to wear. We talked about it that one night...yeah.”

Lindsey remembers it in a rush. She had been half asleep but even then the idea of it had made her breathless. Now, she scrambles to sit on the edge of the bed and take the harness out of Emily’s hands. She still can’t really understand where everything’s supposed to go, and her hands are kind of shaking and now it’s _her_ turn to blush.

“Do you want to?” Emily asks, “it’s okay if you don’t.”

“I want to,” Lindsey blurts, probably too quickly, “I just—I might need your help, um...putting it on.”

“I can do that,” Emily says, and tugs Lindsey to her feet.

-

They switch places again. Now Lindsey is standing, watching Emily slip out of her jeans. Now Emily is sitting on the end of the bed again, holding the harness out so Lindsey can step into it. 

“You can tighten the straps,” Emily murmurs. Lindsey steps away to adjust it, and Emily’s mouth goes dry. 

Lindsey is still wearing all that lingerie. She’s just also wearing the strap-on now and Emily has never wanted anything as badly in her life as she wants Lindsey to flip her over onto her stomach. All the confidence Lindsey had before has been sapped, though, from the awkwardness of figuring this all out. But it’s still good, it’s still so hot, and after a few times Emily’s sure Lindsey will be confident with this, too. 

“How do you want to do this?” Lindsey asks her. 

Emily fishes out a bottle of lube from the bottom drawer of her nightstand that she feels certain they won’t need. 

“Don’t care,” she says, “just want you.”

Lindsey considers that, then sinks to her knees in front of the bed. Emily is surprised, but when Lindsey kisses her again she kisses back. It’s different like this, with Lindsey now a little shorter, and Emily likes feeling tall. She cups Lindsey’s cheek in her hand and brushes her thumb along Lindsey’s jaw. Lindsey tugs at Emily’s jeans and Emily almost kicks her in the process of trying to get them off, but nobody laughs, because they’re too busy trying to keep the kiss going. 

Once Emily’s jeans are off she winds her arms around Lindsey’s neck and deepens the kiss, and Lindsey moans into her mouth immediately. For a few seconds Emily feels like she has the upper hand, dragging her nails gently along Lindsey’s shoulders, and then Lindsey pulls away and exhales harshly against her lips. 

“Lay back,” she murmurs. 

Normally Emily would resist that, even if just for show. Normally she’d make a joke or something, but this time she responds immediately, flopping onto her back. Lindsey chuckles to herself and Emily can feel her blush growing stronger by the second. When Lindsey grabs Emily by the back of the knees to pull her further to the edge of the bed, she forgets all about that. Somehow when Lindsey put on the harness Emily assumes they’d be using it immediately. Instead, Lindsey settles on her knees between Emily’s legs, using her hands to press Emily’s thighs apart. She hesitates, using her thumbs to tease at the wetness between Emily’s legs, and Emily squirms. But she doesn’t cave. She knows Lindsey’s waiting for that. 

“Wow,” Lindsey murmurs, “so patient.”

“I hate you,” Emily laughs, reaching up to tweak one of her own nipples, just to release some tension. 

“Mhm,” Lindsey says, and leans in. 

Emily grasps blindly at the sheets under her hands, doing her best to keep still. Lindsey knows exactly what she likes, and she’s not holding back. Emily doesn’t want to come this quickly but she can’t hold it together for long like this. Lindsey doesn’t seem to want her to, either. She places a hand on Emily’s stomach, holding her in place, and Emily reaches down and covers it with her own. Emily takes a deep breath, trying to focus on little things to keep her grounded. Things like the shift of Lindsey’s fingers under her own, the brush of Lindsey’s hair against her inner thigh, the wet, insistent heat of Lindsey’s mouth. 

“Linds,” Emily pants, clutching at Lindsey’s fingers, “I’m…”

Lindsey hums in agreement against Emily, and she feels it all the way through her body, from head to toe. She makes it another minute, maybe, before she loses it, her hips jumping up against Lindsey’s mouth. Lindsey holds her in place and keeps her mouth soft, helping Emily through it, and when Emily reaches down and gently touches Lindsey’s cheek she lifts her head. 

“You okay?” Lindsey asks, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. 

Emily is more than okay. Emily is just now remembering that Lindsey is wearing the strap-on that she bought. 

When Lindsey stands up, still in the full lingerie set with her eyes a little dark and her hair a mess, Emily groans. 

“You don’t sound okay,” Lindsey jokes, tossing her hair over her shoulder. 

“Lay down on the bed,” Emily says, and Lindsey raises an eyebrow. 

“Lindsey,” Emily says, “please, I wanna blow your mind.”

“_My_ mind?” Lindsey asks, “isn’t this for you?” 

But she lays down anyway, shifting until she’s in the middle of the bed. Emily places a hand on Lindsey’s chest, feeling Lindsey’s heartbeat under her palm. 

“Is that what you think?” Emily says, “that this is just for me?”

Lindsey blushes.

“I don’t know,” she admits, “I’ve never...done this. Not like this. And with guys it’s...you know.”

Emily does not know, but she thinks she understands what Lindsey means. 

“Let me show you,” Emily says.

-

They really don’t need the lube. Still, Emily straddles Lindsey’s knees and spreads some into her palm. Lindsey watches, feeling her heartbeat in her ears, and places her hands on Emily’s thighs. She licks her lips, unsure what she should be doing or saying, and watches Emily slick up the dildo. 

Emily spares her the awkwardness and leans down to kiss her, still pumping her hand. It should be weird, but it doesn’t make her feel weird at all. It’s kind of hot, actually, even though she can’t actually feel Emily’s hand at all. When Emily breaks the kiss, Lindsey rests her hands on Emily’s hips and takes a deep, full breath.

“It’s just me,” Emily reminds her, moving to straddle Lindsey’s hips. Lindsey nods, sliding her hands from Emily’s hips up along her ribs and then back down. 

She watches Emily’s face as Emily sinks down onto the dildo and is immediately rapt. Emily’s eyes are squeezed shut and her brows are furrowed. Her hair is wild, falling into her face, and her lips are parted. When their hips are flush, she quirks her mouth into a half smile, and Lindsey’s heart stutters in her chest. It’s the best thing she’s ever seen. 

Emily bites her lip and rolls her hips. She moans when she does and Lindsey is breathless immediately. She can feel a _lot_ more than she expected. It’s not just the weight of Emily in her lap—which she loves—or the pressure of Emily grinding against her. She can feel the base of the dildo and every time Emily rolls her hips Lindsey gets a little bit of friction, too. Not enough to get her anywhere, but enough to notice, enough to drive her nuts combined with the view. Emily is so good at this that Lindsey knows without having to ask that she’s done this before. It makes her overheat just thinking about it, wondering distantly if Emily’s ever tried it the other way, if Emily would be into fucking _her_ like this. 

“Good?” Lindsey asks, suddenly paranoid that she should be doing more.

Emily nods, opening her eyes. They’re completely hazy but she reaches down fro Lindsey’s hand anyway, drawing it up to kiss her palm before she places Lindsey’s hand on her breast where she wants it. Lindsey’s eyes wander so she can watch what she’s doing, and when she gently pinches Emily’s nipple between her knuckles Emily moans appreciatively.

“So good,” she confirms. 

She gets into a rhythm, rolling her hips and bracing herself with a hand on Lindsey’s chest, and Lindsey gets comfortable. She likes this. Maybe not as much as she likes feeling Emily herself, but there’s something about this, about having both hands free and the ability to really see, that she likes a lot. And she can tell Emily likes it, too, although she’s more subdued than she usually is when Lindsey uses her hands. It occurs to Lindsey that might be an angle thing, and she shifts under Emily, trying to adjust. When she thrusts her hips up, Emily gasps, clawing against Lindsey’s chest, and makes the hottest sound that Lindsey’s ever heard. 

She wants to hear it again. That’s really all she’s thinking when she flips them over. She settles between Emily’s legs, still inside her, and reaches blindly for the headboard. When she finds it, she clutches it with one hand and uses the leverage and her other hand on Emily’s hip and thrusts into her without really planning it out. It’s just what she wants to do, what her body tells her to do. 

“Fuck,” Emily gasps, then groans, burying her face in Lindsey’s neck. Lindsey freezes, afraid shes fucked up, and Emily wriggles under her. 

“Linds,” Emily says, “babe—please—“

And Lindsey gets it. 

She keeps her grip on the headboard and rocks her hips forward. Emily groans again over the sound of their bodies meeting and Lindsey is on fire, her heart racing. She keeps up the pace and Emily breathes against her neck, clinging to Lindsey’s shoulders. When Emily’s thighs start to tremble around her hips, Lindsey drops her hand to Emily’s chest, then curls an arm around Emily’s shoulders, buries her face in Emily’s neck and holds her close. Emily falls apart under her, gasping and moaning and writhing, and Lindsey rides it out with her, and doesn’t realize right away how close she is to coming, herself. 

But Emily must know. She reaches down and slips her fingers behind the dildo, making a firm, sure circle over Lindsey’s clit with her middle and index fingertips. Lindsey curses and comes immediately, bucking into Emily uncontrollably. Emily moans, clamping her legs around Lindsey’s hips again, and Lindsey collapses, rolling off of Emily and onto her back to breathe. 

She’s still feeling the aftershocks of her own orgasm when Emily laughs breathlessly next to her. 

“Damn,” she says, “happy birthday to me.”

-

Lindsey turns her head and Emily smiles at her. She feels so good, so satisfied, her legs still numb and shaking. She knows she’ll be thinking about it for days. Specifically the way that Lindsey flipped them, the way that Lindsey learned so quickly exactly how to fuck her, without her even needing to say a word. She feels very validated in her assumption that Lindsey would be good at this. Lindsey’s good at pretty much everything, but especially good at making Emily feel good. 

“What,” Lindsey says, “are you done already?”

And Emily’s stomach flips. 

“Fuck no,” she says, “unless you are.”

“Not even close,” Lindsey says, “roll over.”

“Guess you like it,” Emily says, gesturing at the strap-on, and Lindsey blushes. 

“I like—I like that you like it. And I like being able to...see,” she explains. She’s blushing again and Emily doesn’t want her to feel self-conscious, so she rolls onto her stomach, stretching luxuriously in a way she knows will distract Lindsey from anything that’s not her body. 

“Should I take it off?” Lindsey asks.

“No,” Emily says, “unless you want to.”

She’s already ready to go again. Honestly, not that she’s admitted it out loud, she sort of loves this position, even when she’s getting Lindsey’s fingers instead. She likes letting Lindsey have control, sometimes. She knows Lindsey will make her feel good and she knows Lindsey gets turned on by watching her lose it, so really, everyone wins. Lindsey uses her fingers first this time, just exploring, sliding her fingers back and forth until Emily’s wet and aching all over again, as if she hasn’t come in days. Emily props herself up on her knees to give Lindsey a better angle, bracing on her elbows, and Lindsey curses quietly. 

Emily’s about to egg her on when Lindsey shifts and Emily hears the lube being uncapped. She smiles to herself, craning her head around so she can watch Lindsey slicking up the dildo, and the image is hot enough that she has to chew her lips to keep quiet. Lindsey looks up and makes brief eye contact, and Emily turns back around and closes her eyes, relaxing every muscle that she can. 

Lindsey places one hand on Emily’s lower back. It’s a tender and grounding gesture, one that makes Emily smile into her wrists before she feels the head of the dildo pressing against her. The sensation of being filled from this angle is _so_ good. Good enough that she fists her hands into the covers and squeezes her eyes shut. Good enough that she can’t keep quiet. 

“Fuck,” Emily groans, rocking back into Lindsey’s hips, taking the last few inches easily. 

“Fuck,” Lindsey agrees, placing both hands on Emily’s hips.

When she starts moving, Emily loses all ability to process coherent thought. She has no idea how much time is passing, because she can only think about how good she feels, about the weight of Lindsey’s hands on her hips and the pleasure shooting through her limbs, pooling low in her stomach, stealing her breath from her lungs. When Lindsey ratchets up the pace, using her hands on Emily’s hips to pull her back when she thrusts forward, Emily’s toes curl. 

“Linds,” Emily gasps, “Jesus.”

“Yeah,” Lindsey laughs, “I definitely like this.”

“Close,” Emily murmurs, dropping her head into her wrists, “I’m close.”

“C’mon,” Lindsey says, smoothing her hand along Emily’s spine, “c’mon babe, come for me.”

Emily comes immediately, hard enough that her vision starts to go black at the edges, hard enough that she’s gasping until her throat is raw, her hips jerking back against Lindsey’s. Lindsey keeps stroking Emily’s back and sides, murmuring to her. Emily isn’t processing a word that she’s saying, but it’s still comforting and sweet, and it makes her chest ache with how much she loves Lindsey. 

When Lindsey pulls out, Emily sighs, sinking back down onto her stomach. Lindsey flops down onto her back and shimmies out of the harness, tossing it to the floor. 

“Holy shit,” she laughs.

“You’re like, really good at that,” Emily says, and Lindsey turns her head and smiles, suddenly shy.

“Yeah?” she asks, and Emily rolls over to kiss her, resting half against Lindsey’s chest.

“Lindsey,” she says, “yeah. _Yeah._”

She kisses Lindsey again, and again, and they get carried away easily. Lindsey frames Emily’s face in her hands and Emily slips she hand behind Lindsey’s back to unhook the lacy bra. She shrugs out of it and Emily descends on her immediately, leaving a trail of gentle love bites from Lindsey’s neck down across her chest. When she takes one of Lindsey’s nipples into her mouth she’s gentle, and Lindsey clutches the back of Emily’s head, wanting more. Emily sort of wants to hear Lindsey ask, but she’s also eager to please after all Lindsey’s done for her tonight, so she gives in, using the alternating pressure of her tongue and teeth on both nipples until Lindsey is squirming. 

When Emily finally gets her hand down the front of Lindsey’s underwear, she grins against Lindsey’s neck. 

“You’re so wet,” she mumbles, and Lindsey threads her fingers into Emily’s hair and tugs. 

“I like making you feel good,” Lindsey says. 

“I love you,” Emily mumbles, and pulls back to tug Lindsey’s underwear off and throw them over her shoulder. 

She settles between Lindsey’s legs, kissing her neck and jaw and bracing on one elbow. With her other hand she moves Lindsey’s hair out of her face, then touches Lindsey’s stomach, lingering at her hip. When she moves her hand back between Lindsey’s legs she can tell right away it won’t be long. Lindsey takes two fingers like it’s nothing, curling the back of her hand possessively behind Emily’s neck like before and pressing her head back into the mattress. Emily noses along Lindsey’s neck and Lindsey eventually starts to make quiet, desperate sounds. That always makes Emily crazy, and she picks up the pace, curling her fingers just right. She grins when she feels Lindsey tighten around her fingers, and when she kisses the shell of Lindsey’s ear, Lindsey loses it. 

She’s always quiet when she comes, but Emily has learned to pick up on the little things—the way Lindsey feels around her, the sound of Lindsey’s staggered breathing and Lindsey’s blunt nails digging into her skin. When Emily pulls out and braces both hands next to Lindsey’s head, Lindsey opens her eyes, legs still shaking, and kisses her. 

“Maybe I should wear lace more often,” Lindsey teases. 

“Only if you want me dead,” Emily jokes, and rolls off of her. Lindsey shuffles so that she can rest her head on Emily’s chest, looping an arm around her waist. Emily, content and dazed, presses an absent-minded kiss to the crown of Lindsey’s head and strokes a hand through her hair. 

“Happy birthday,” Lindsey mumbles, and Emily smiles, letting her eyes fall closed.


End file.
